Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The air always shifted when Vanessa was scared. It cooled and thinned, becoming fragile like glass. Jordan was so attuned to it now that he dropped whatever he was doing and zeroed right in.
Across the gym, she had her back to him, head lowered as she stared at something in her hands, too still, too rigid. He was at her side in a few strides.
The blown-up photos were black and white. The camera must have been professional quality because the shots were taken from a fair distance, at different full-length angles, and all crystal clear. They were beautiful, candid, and…completely invasive.
“These are from h-here?” Her voice was a choked whisper, her hands trembling as she rifled through the photos.
Shots of Vanessa getting out of Anderson’s SUV, walking to The Link’s front doors. Another frame of her entering the building.
“They’re from yesterday. When I arrived to work on the stage.” She crushed the photos to her chest and turned to him, her wide brown eyes shimmering with fear and unshed tears. “He followed me here. He was h-here.” Her voice cracked as the first tears spilled.
Jordan tugged her close and held her. Fury coiled in his gut, a ferocious beast screaming to be let loose. She didn’t need to see or deal with his anger, so he tucked her in, shielding her the only way he knew how.
This fucker was too close. Too fucking close and getting closer. Whoever this was, whatever their motives, they were getting more desperate by following her to work. His anger morphed into a cold, clawing dread. This motherfucker knew her schedule. Did he have his sights on her every move?
This was his fault. He knew she’d been threatened, but he hadn’t kept a close enough eye on her. While a fucking stalker followed her, he’d been going about his day. If someone had hurt her, if they’d done more than take pictures—
Never again. Fucking never would he leave her unprotected. He would move heaven and earth before letting any harm come to her. His mind raced, formulating plans and contingencies, everything he needed to put in place to keep her safe.
“I feel sick,” she murmured against his t-shirt.
When he shifted, trying to assess her face so he could reassure himself she’d be alright, she clung to him tighter, burying her face in the fabric. Seeing her cry drove him crazy, but it also spurred him on. When he found whoever was doing this to her, they would pay.
“Come on. Let’s get you home,” he murmured, carefully taking the envelope and putting the photos inside it. Her fingers were icy against his, and without thinking, he wrapped his hand around them, keeping a firm hold as he grabbed their things and locked up the gym.
“Should I call Anderson?” Vanessa asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still clinging to him as they made their way along the hall.
“Yes. Tell him there’s a change of plans. We’re walking.”
She stopped in her tracks, her pupils flaring. “What do you mean, walking? We can’t walk! What if he’s out there? What if—?”
“Look at me, Vanessa.” He kept his tone firm, pulling her gaze to his.
“Nothing will happen to you as long as you’re with me, I promise.
If this person is out there, I want him to see that you’re not alone.
You’re protected.” He couldn’t resist brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“It’s a twenty-minute walk over the bridge.
I think we could both use the fresh air. You’ll be with me the whole time.”
She studied him, her expression cautious as she weighed his words. “Okay,” she whispered, but the trust was unmistakable, and he wasn’t taking that for granted .
Tugging on his beanie, he looked her up and down. “Are you going to be warm enough?”
She nodded. “This is a down jacket, and I have gloves. I’ll put them on if I get cold.” She squeezed his hand.
He stared at their intertwined fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman’s hand. It might have been never, since he didn’t do relationships, but her hand in his was natural, easy. He might have even fucking liked it, and he couldn’t afford to. Not with everything going on.
After locking up The Link, they walked in silence for a while. Thankfully, there was no breeze, so the air wasn’t as cold as it could’ve been. Plenty of people were out and about, shops and restaurants open, cars passing by, but Vanessa glanced over her shoulder every few minutes.
“There’s no one there,” he reassured her as they continued toward the Broadway Bridge.
She snuck another peek behind her, then tucked herself back against his arm. He tried and failed to ignore how well she fit beside him.
“We weren’t followed, and there was no one around when we left.”
“How would you know? I didn’t see you check.”
His gaze swept over her. She was bundled in a thick but stylish jacket the color of a winter moon. Her hair floated softly over her ears. Was it enough to keep them warm, or should he offer her his beanie? Would she wear it?
“I’m always checking. You just don’t notice,” he said truthfully. Over the years he’d developed an acute awareness of his surroundings. Shifts in the air, footsteps, sounds. He followed his instincts. Staying vigilant had saved his life more than once.
Vanessa shot him a wary side-eye, and he clenched his jaw. He didn’t talk about his past. The fact that he’d been a criminal wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t something he was proud of. Besides, she’d disliked him enough simply for existing, so she knew little about his…history.
But as her look lingered, he had a gnawing sense that it was time to change that.
“In prison, you have to watch your back twenty-four-seven.” He exhaled slowly, weighing the least awful way to explain the darkness he’d experienced. “There is no safe zone, except maybe your cell, but even then—”
The echo of the screams he’d hear at night, when men were supposed to be alone in their cells, flashed through his mind. He blinked hard, forcing back the memories.
“You can’t make it obvious that you’re checking over your shoulder. If you do, you’re marked. Weakness doesn’t last long in prison.” He paused, jaw tight. Fuck, he hated going back to that shit. “I learned to be inconspicuous. That’s how I stayed alive.”
It was more than he’d ever told anyone about his time locked up.
Even Sean didn’t know much. If his brother was curious about Jordan’s life inside, he never asked, and Jordan sure as hell never volunteered a word.
The whole damn reason he’d ended up in jail was to protect his brother.
Why would he burden Sean with all the details of what it was like in there?
He glanced at Vanessa, but she didn’t appear horrified as he’d expected. Instead, she clung to his bicep with both hands as they continued walking, her gaze set on the street ahead of them.
“I can’t imagine how awful that must have been,” she murmured.
“Trust me, I deserved to be there.” He didn’t want her sympathy.
Sure, he’d ended up in jail to protect his brother, but that didn’t make him a damn hero.
He’d done enough fucked-up shit in his life to deserve twice the time he’d served.
He was no saint or savior, just a man buried under the weight of the choices he’d made.
“Before I was sentenced, I was in a gang,” he heard himself say bluntly.
When she didn’t flinch, he kept talking.
“Sean and I grew up in Chicago. Dad died when we were kids, and Mom moved us to a cheaper neighborhood she could afford on her own. I was always a troublemaker, always in the wrong crowd. Hated school, hated rules, missed my dad.” He’d never said that out loud before, and he rolled his lips together, letting the words sink in.
Vanessa remained silent, and they started across the Broadway Bridge. Of all the bridges that crossed the Willamette, this one was his favorite. Maybe because of the orange-red color that set it apart. Or maybe because it was the fastest route to Vanessa’s. He couldn’t really say.
“Is that why you joined a gang?” She tipped her face up to him, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold, her long hair falling around her shoulders like a veil. She was so beautiful, it sometimes took his breath away.
“The neighborhood we moved to wasn’t amazing.
” He didn’t love that she was seeing all of his darkness, but he did love how safe he felt talking about it with her.
“The guys I thought were cool ended up being criminals, but I was a teenager, and I wanted to find my place. They made me feel like I belonged, offered me a brotherhood when I was lonely, and told me I was family. By the time I realized how wrong I’d been to trust them, it was too late. I was in.”
She curled closer to him but averted her gaze. He hoped what he’d told her didn’t change her opinion of him, not that it was very high to begin with.
After a few minutes in silence, Vanessa slowed her steps as she guided them to the bridge’s rail. She gazed out over the water. “Look how the moon shines over the river. It’s so beautiful.”
The moon was huge. Round, white, and low in the sky.
He’d seen it earlier as they were walking, but it wasn’t what he was looking at now. His stare remained fixed on her profile, the slope of her jaw, the softness of her skin, and her plump, fucking irresistible lips. “Yeah,” he murmured as he watched her. “An absolute stunner.”
“The supermoon,” she said. “They talked about it on the radio this morning.” She blew out a stream of air, and it puffed out around them. “It looks close enough to touch. Imagine if we could.”
Hell, his entire being wanted her, and the more she spoke, the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to ignore.
“Vanessa—”
“I don’t care what you did.” She whirled on him, cutting him off, indignant fire in her eyes.
“You should,” he warned her. If she only knew half of it.
But she shook her head fiercely. “It doesn’t matter what you did.
It only matters what you do now.” Her eyes turned pleading.
“Our pasts can’t define us, Jordan. They can’t.
” Her use of his first name without any annoyance or bitterness was something he was still getting used to.
“They can’t,” she repeated, her voice a fading whisper.
He watched in horror as tears rippled down her face.
On impulse, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the soft skin under her eye to catch any tears before they fell. “Vanessa.” He managed to get her name out, but then fell silent, instinct telling him there was more to her story than he knew.
“What if this is payback?” Her voice cracked, and her lower lip trembled. A big tear caught on his thumb before rolling along the side to his wrist, tearing through him like a crack in glass.
“For what?” There was no scenario where he could imagine her deserving this kind of retribution.
“For all the mistakes I’ve made.” Her voice was barely audible over the traffic, but it broke him just the same.
“This isn’t payback,” he said, his voice low and laced with a promise.
“This is some sick fuck playing games with you, and when I find them, I swear to you, I will make them pay. Every second they’ve made you hurt, every second they’ve caused you to question yourself, I’ll make them regret it.
” His eyes locked with hers, the weight of his promise heavy in the air.
“You don’t ever have to feel alone in this again. ”
Her quiet nod did little to ease the fist around his heart.
“Take me home,” she said.
Too filled with his own rage to say anything else, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her back home.